


Girls/Girls/Boys

by Shmeowzow



Series: Good Boys/Bad Girls [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Marvel Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 22:51:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1796137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shmeowzow/pseuds/Shmeowzow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following Good Boys and Bad Girls. Patricia Chase is on the roll call with SHIELD now, and still running from her past as a criminal with two turn-coat partners, and her complicated feelings for Steve Rogers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girls/Girls/Boys

**Author's Note:**

> "Never did I think that I would be caught in the way you got me  
> But girls love girls and boys, and love is not a choice"
> 
> \- P!ATD, Girls/Girls/Boys
> 
> Thanks for the lovely Kudos and Comments, they inspired me to expand from Good Boys and Bad Girls. Enjoy!

Chase fought the urge not to fall asleep during the debriefing for her and Steve's last mission. Her shoulder ached from the nicotine patch she had rather begrudgingly stamped there, and her eyes were puffy from exhaustion and a mild case of dehydration. Who knew quitting smoking was actually hard? Being the heinous bitch that she was, she had always assumed those that had trouble quitting were either weak of mind, or pussies. Nope. Turns out nicotine really is that addictive. "Something you want to share with the group, Ms. Chase?"

Fury loomed above her, seeing to the debriefing of her first mission with Steve Rogers personally; what with her being a wild card and the pairing of a pardoned ex-criminal with an Avenger to do their sometimes shady business. It was a trial, he had said, the day he finally laid out her duties and the reasoning behind their glorified kidnapping. If she was a good little girl, they would use her for a predetermined number of years in SHIELD service, and after her sentence was over, she could go on with her life as she saw fit, or stay in the field. If she was naughty, they would exonerate her to whichever country was maddest at her, and/or the highest bidder. "Not a damn thing, Sir."

Steve stole a nervous glance in her direction, and she couldn't tell if he was amused, or if her pain-in-the-assery was finally wearing him thin. She knew it would her, in his position. "Glad to hear it."

Chase and Steve remained good friends, but ever since they officially started working together, Chase had been trying to keep as much distance between their naughty bits as possible. Every time Steve even hinted that the conversation may flow into shaky waters, she bailed, and she knew he had to have noticed by now. He seemed a little more reserved than usual around her more recently, and she hoped he had gotten the hint. She really did like him, in spite of how good of a guy he was and to her dismay, and when she was being honest herself, she was terrified of what he could make her feel. That and thinking about his hands on her body, in her hair, and his hips crashing against her, the way his kisses tasted like bubblegum, (his guilty pleasure) could be quite distracting. He was far from a bad lay. Quite the opposite. For those reasons, she didn't trust herself to know where to draw the line, and until she did, she was content with things as they were presently. She did, after all, have a less than fantastic track record of romantic success with her coworkers.

* * *

 

Chase took a long drag from her cigarette, and blew it out the window of ritzy hotel they were camped out in just outside of George Town, in the Cayman Islands. The wind immediately spirited her exhalation far and away as if it never existed. She felt hands snake around her waist, and bristled when James' stubble grated against the crook of her neck. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

He was referring to the water spout of intimidating size that had touched down a mile or two out in the ocean. It wasn't expected to reach land, but Chase had her doubts. She maintained a healthy mistrust of meteorologists. Ignoring the snare of his arms, she tossed the butt out the window and shut it, turning to head toward the other room of the suite. James caught her by the forearm and held her in place for a moment, dark and down turned eyes searching her own. His pupils were blown, as they often were when he was high, making his gaze drowning deep, and all the more terrifying than usual. He then smiled, tight lipped and predatory. It was a warning. He knew she didn't care for him anymore; hated him now, and his playing-nice charades grated on her nerves. He was pale, with dark hair and eyes, and a little on the short side at 5'9", but with broad, triangular shoulders and a fantastically dense build. His imposing body and attitude made his height go all but unnoticed. As she studied him with cold eyes she realized with disgust that she was still physically and sexually attracted to him. He wasn't a partner she would have chosen for herself, but Shane adored him, and Chase had to admit she enjoyed how he took control of them both in between the sheets, but Chase loved Shane, and would do anything for her. She was the only reason James was still here, and not in the ground, after the job he put them on that almost got the girls killed. James was a genius, and the slip; sending them to the location at just the wrong time, was too obvious to have been accidental. But Shane swore up and down that he didn't mean it, it was an accident, they couldn't abandon him, she couldn't do it without them both, blah, blah, blah. She hadn't allowed Shane to accompany her on any more heists since, she could take care of herself, and not having her around to worry for would make it easier to defend herself in a pinch. Shane was her world, so she listened and let James stay, and now she wished she had put a bullet in the both of them.

* * *

Chase's eyes fluttered open and she rolled over to glance at the digital alarm clock on her bedside table. It was just after 4am. She stole a glance to her right at Natasha Romanov's body. The cheap grey sheets didn't do her form justice. SHIELD wasn't too worried about the nighttime comfort of their associates, it seemed. Satisfied that her guest was still asleep, Chase plodded over to her small closet and stepped on a storage container to reach into a box hidden in the corner of a high shelf. Lighting a cigarette, she crawled back into bed. "You're not supposed to smoke on the patch, you know."

No rest for the wicked. "Ugh, not you too, 'Natty."

Natasha wasn't often at Stark Tower, and had her own guest room, but lately when she was there, she always ended up in Chase's bed. They were cut from the same cloth, after all; both of them were inexplicably attracted to and sought after danger, also they themselves were very dangerous. Chase knew Natasha had no real feelings for her other than friendship and lust, so she was fine and dandy with her sleepovers, when they occurred. "I could care less if you smoke or not, but I know you're trying to quit. You're just making it harder for yourself."

Chase shrugged, smoke leaking from her mouth as she spoke. "Bad dreams."

Natasha leaned up and relinquished the rolled tobacco to take a drag, then leaned over Chase, exposing her breasts, and put it out in a glass of water on the nightstand. Ms. Romanov had fantastic tits. Chase was an ass girl herself, and Nat wasn't lacking there either, but she could still appreciate a great rack. Smiling, Natasha pressed her lips against Chase's, savoring the flavor of smoke and a hint of spearmint with her tongue. "I can fix bad dreams."

Her skilled fingers ghosted against Chase's warm folds, and her breath came purring out as she dipped one, two fingers in, pulling them out tenderly and massaging Chase's clit with her own juices. Natasha's fingers found the other girl's lips and she forced them in; no resistance there anyhow, before recanting them into her own mouth. Only when Natasha forced a third finger in and curled it up into her G-spot, while her tongue lavished Chase's folds and clit with attention, did Chase actually cry out. Natasha smirked when Chase's hand clapped over her mouth to keep such loud mewling from reoccurring, and her red tresses looked fabulous splayed across her lover's pale as milk and quivering thighs. When Chase came it was hard and bright like stars, lasting several long seconds. She said Natasha's name and it was a growling thing crawling out of her lungs. They took a shower together, and affectionately scrubbed each others backs with Chase's yellow rose scented body gel. They had become so close in the few months since they had met, it was almost as if they'd been friends for years. Their relationship was easy. They were both hopelessly damaged individuals with similar chinks in each's carefully crafted armor. Best of all, neither of them had the least interest in falling in love, and were horribly narcissistic about romantic commitment of any real kind.

Chase kissed Natasha on the cheek before she left the Tower; espionage never slept, and baby, she was a night owl for the record books. Yawning, Chase followed the scent of expensive coffee to one of the media lounges, but almost turned around and ran in the other direction when she saw that Steve was the orchestrator of the smell, however, she knew by body language that he had already heard her moving towards him. He turned, smiling, and handed her a mug. A newscaster droned away on the television mounted to the wall behind him, something or other about a storm cell. Chase relaxed a bit and claimed the mug, greedily siphoning the scalding liquid into her body. She'd regret it later. "Mmm, thanks. Its strong."

Steve's smile never faded as he said "I figured you'd need it. Sounded to me like you had a pretty exhausting night."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. It was situations like these Chase had been trying to avoid, not only because she hated the mess, but because she didn't want to hurt Steve's feelings. There was no point in being dishonest with him, but she still wasn't sure how she planned to navigate the relationship they shared. Now she wished she had put more thought into it. Her relationship with trains of thought that stressed her out had always been Lassiez-faire at best. "Our friend Natasha is fantastic in bed. You should give her a whirl."

The smile cracked. "I'm not quite as casual about who I 'give a whirl' as you are."

His remark should have stung, but it didn't. Chase had never, never been abashed about her sexuality, or whom she shared it with. "I know you're from a time where girls sleeping around is taboo, honey, but you're going to have to loosen your tie a bit if you want to survive, mentally, in this day and age."

He slammed his empty mug against the marble counter-top. It cracked, but didn't break. "Well you've got two Avengers on your bedpost, how many more before you're finished? Or would you rather fuck them all?"

Chase blanched then, and drank the last of her coffee before setting her own mug down very deliberately. "Don't be a pig, Steve. It doesn't suit you."

His mug was in pieces on the floor near the wall before she'd even registered his arm move. "You take me out, cry on my shoulder, fuck me like some kind of toy, and then pretend none of it ever happened for weeks, and I'm the pig?!"

Goddammit. Chase really didn't want to do this with him, but her heart sunk at the realization that she really had been careless with his feelings. She owed him something; but she wasn't ready for full disclosure. It was too much. She altogether wished she could take back sleeping with him. She knew touching him would be a mistake but she did it anyways, and it broke her heart more when he didn't push her away like she thought he would. "You've been a good friend Steve, and I'm sorry I lead you on or hurt your feelings or whatever it is that night did."

Her hand had a mind of its own now, wandering from where she had placed it on his shoulder to his cheek, fingers splayed against the stubble on his jawline. His breathing increased, and she struggled to find the words she wanted to say. "I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. I enjoyed having sex with you; really, really enjoyed it. You're an amazing lover."

His finally met her eyes when she said that, and his gaze was heavy lidded, waiting for her to continue. Her fingers toyed with the neckline of his tee shirt. It was soft and worn."I can't...fuck, I'm no good at this. I didn't want this between us."

She trailed off, referring to the current shitty awkward state of things.

He pulled her body toward him, hands bunched up in the waistband of her pajama shorts. "I want this."

He kissed her hard and she was undone. Shit, Shit. SHIT. Explicit words repeated over and over in her head as their mouths danced. He yanked her loose sleep shirt down, ripping it a little to expose her breasts, and bit down on her collarbone with a focused fury he lacked during their last go-round. Learning from this morning's loud mistakes were hard, and Chase fought to stay silent. The lounge had no door, only threshold, and she hoped and didn't care if anyone was around at the same time. He lifted her onto the counter, knocking her head against a cabinet. Neither of the noticed. She felt him swollen between her thighs, and a hand stopped hers from reaching for him instinctively. He slammed it down onto the marble counter-top next to her, and the other was tangled in his shirt, holding on for dear life. It was going to bruise and she loved it. He yanked the shorts off and they dangled from one leg as his fingers found her center. His eyes darkened. "You're so wet."

"Fuck, Steve."

Her head fell back and her eyelids fluttered as his thumb toyed with her folds. He finally released her hand to pull down his sweatpants, and she slapped him with it, hard enough to hurt them both. When he buried himself inside her it wasn't sweet, it was messy and it hurt in all the right ways, and her shorts slipped away from her leg and onto the floor in a pitiful heap. Cups, cutlery, paper towels, anything that had been on the counter found its new home on the floor, victim to Chase's flailing arms as she tried to hold herself steady while Steve ground his hips into hers, fingernails leaving angry marks on her thighs and ass. Neither of them were bothering to remain quiet anymore. She claimed his mouth furiously as she came, and it was so much faster and harder than it had been with Nat that morning. His pace changed to a slow, deliberate rhythm, and when he came she savored the feeling of it wetting her thighs as it escaped her body. Burying his nose in her shoulder, he said "I'm sorry."

Damn it all, this boy was going to be the end of her. She brushed his sweat soaked hair away from his forehead and pressed lips to his to stop him from saying more. "Shh. Don't say you're sorry to me."

He looked at her and she knew he was confused, but she didn't have it in her to do anything about it. "Besides, no one should ever apologize for fucking like that."

"Anyone ever tell you have a really dirty mouth?"

She smiled, and so did he. Hers quirked at only one corner, but his, his lit up his whole face. "Every day of my life."

When Chase lay down than night, she had trouble falling asleep. The day's early events were haunting her on repeat in her head. Not the sex, that was divine; the consequences, were what was troubling her. Not Steve spilling himself inside her; she had a contraceptive implant, as she had explained to Steve after their kitchen romp. Chase thought he was going to have a total meltdown, and still wasn't entirely sure he believed her when she told him she had a "magic device" in her lady parts that prevented conception.

No, it was none of that. Chase knew she was getting attached; and that's not what she wanted. Grimacing, she had to acknowledge that she actually cared about Steve's feelings. She wasn't a one-man kind of girl, and she knew that ultimately, her style of living wasn't suited to the corn-fed, beautiful, blonde hero she was currently involved with. That's just the way it was. Monogamy worked for some people; more often than not, it doesn't, actually, just everyone wants to pretend that it does. Chase was one of the few who figured out early and was willing to admit that not only did she love boys and girls, but that she could never settle down with one human being permanently.

She loved sex, drama, and the attention that each new partner brought her, especially when they coincided with each other. Having a boyfriend and girlfriend was her home. Two boyfriends is too much work; Two girlfriends, and you are in way over your head.

Plus, at the end of the day, Chase was a criminal, and she didn't plan on making a lifestyle change after her sentence with SHIELD was served. She was too accustomed to her routines, her way of life. Now, she didn't go around murdering people willy-nilly, but she didn't hesitate to do so if need be.

So what to do? Tell him all this? Chase didn't want to do that. It would hurt him, and she had to keep working with him for quite a while.

Her thoughts finally started to rise and fall, becoming disjointed as she drifted slowly to sleep. She still hadn't decided a course of actiuon, but she knew one thing; if she wasn't careful, this was going to eventually get messy.


End file.
